


Poison

by Moonrose001



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Barebacking, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Possessive Thorin, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5016838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonrose001/pseuds/Moonrose001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You belong here,” Thorin rumbles, as he grinds in deep and Bilbo has to squeeze his eyes together because it feels like far, far too much. “In my mountain of gold. You belong here like- “<br/>“<em>Ahn –</em>“<br/>“- one of these jewels belong here. You shall never leave.”<br/>Bilbo tries to talk to Thorin one last time before he goes to betray the King under the Mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poison

**Author's Note:**

> i couldn't resist  
> Un-betaed. All typos and mistakes are mine.  
> Check End Notes to see why this was tagged dub-con :)

There are many things Bilbo is, in fact, afraid of. He’s afraid of failure, he’s afraid of being useless. He’s afraid of not owning up to the company’s expectations.

And while a lot of his fears are related to Thorin, he has never actually been afraid of Thorin. Never.

But he is now.

He has to leave. Not only for Thorin’s sake, but also for the company’s, for Erebor. He needs to fix this some way.

He’s standing on the stone ledge by the hearth, debating of whether he should leave mithril behind, when he hears the sound of heavy foot steps beneath him. He moves away from the trunk full of armor, and crosses the bridge, looking down. On the platform towering above the seas of gold, walks Thorin. He looks tense and thoughtful, his hands quivering, his face contorted into that fierce grimace of paranoia he always has these days.

”Thorin?” Bilbo can’t help calling out. Perhaps hoping that suddenly Thorin will look up and be himself for a moment. Like he did when he handed Bilbo mithril, before the darkness of his delusions clouded over his face once again.

”Come forth, Master Baggins,” Thorin calls out in reply, not looking up at Bilbo.

Erebor is silent, almost dead, and it’s only Bilbo’s light footsteps, which can be heard as he descends the stairs to meet the King under the Mountain.

”King Thorin?” Bilbo insecurely calls out in response.

Thorin turns around sharply. ”Is there a need for such formalities?”

Bilbo looks Thorin up and down. His armor is beautifully crafted; its plates eerily scale-like. He’s wearing the crown even though there’s nothing but kin here, the attack of the Elves not coming before dawn.

“I’m… not quite sure if I know any longer,” Bilbo admits, looking down.

He hears a soft sigh and notices Thorin’s tense posture slightly relaxing. He looks up and Thorin’s face has lost some of its tension.

“I’ve neglected you,” Thorin admits, reaching out to touch Bilbo’s cheek. Bilbo closes his eyes, but he can’t feel the warmth of his beloved through the gauntlets. He opens them again, and Thorin’s other hand comes down to Bilbo’s waist, kludging unnecessarily hard.

“Thorin,” Bilbo says in slight warning.

“Relax, _Anîkan_ ,” Thorin soothes, stepping into Bilbo’s space. “Look around you. Are we not surrounded by fortune?”

“I wonder,” Bilbo croaks.

“Don’t you doubt me,” Thorin hisses, all softness evaporating from his voice as he speaks. His hand pulls him in, and their chests are pulled together; Bilbo’s, feeling soft and vulnerable despite mithril's metallic veil, Thorin’s, hard and flat.

“I don’t,” Bilbo replies, because he isn’t in doubt anymore. He has already decided. He just hopes that if – when it all smooths out, Thorin will have the mercy to forgive him.

“Then why this coldness?” Thorin inquires, his hands becoming slightly more gentle as he seeks out Bilbo’s eyes. “Am I not the dwarf you love?”

“Yes,” Bilbo answers, and tries not to add _I think._

“Then kiss me,” Thorin demands, longing and passionate. “Kiss me like you did that new moon night.”

But is Bilbo mistaken to think that if he tries to kiss Thorin like he did once upon a time, when the company was still strong, loyal… will Thorin not taste the poison on his lips? On his tongue?

Is Bilbo a fool for wanting to love this dwarf one last time?

Thorin becomes impatient. His fingers close around Bilbo’s chin and Bilbo squeaks as the metal fingers uncomfortably direct Bilbo to look up at the king. Bilbo tries to shrug himself loose, and Thorin appears to jolt with Bilbo’s sudden movement. He steps on Bilbo’s foot, which makes Bilbo yelp and jump. Briefly he looses his balance on the tip of the platform, but Thorin is as quick as ever and tries to grab Bilbo, but they both end up falling over the edge and tumbling down the sea of gold.

They roll for a while, until they hit the bottom, neatly sheltered between two hills of gold coins and Thorin lands on top of him, his armor heavy and knocking the breath out of Bilbo’s lungs.

“Move,” Bilbo coughs and shoves at Thorin’s heavy weight.

Thorin does sit up, but instead of getting off, he straddles Bilbo’s legs.

Bilbo looks up at him, and the passion glowing out of Thorin’s eyes makes Bilbo lose his breath all over again. Thorin digs the tips of his feet into the pile, and uses the unsteady foothold to grind down on Bilbo.

“Thorin,” Bilbo says, suddenly unsure.

Thorin grinds down on him again and Bilbo feels sparks of arousal, and Thorin lowers down and kisses him. Tenderly. Like they have all the time in the world and nothing is wrong.

Bilbo lets himself dwell in the illusion. He whispers: "Yes."

And then Thorin pulls them up, so Bilbo is sitting on his lap and they’re still kissing, Thorin’s hands are wandering around Bilbo’s shoulders and settle down on Bilbo’s cheeks, while Bilbo’s hands are resting on Thorin’s neck. But the kiss develops into something else very soon; Thorin almost seems chaotic, uncontrollable. His crotch is a hard bulk underneath the chainmail trousers, and his body is honest in its want, it tries to get closer and closer to Bilbo’s, and Bilbo isn’t sure he’s ready, but Thorin is so demanding, so wanting, that it fills Bilbo up with want as well.

Their kisses become more hectic, and Thorin gets the shirt off him, Bilbo not caring, just wanting to be close to Thorin and Thorin keeps grabbing and holding unto Bilbo, so hard that Bilbo knows bruises will surely come. The king’s hands are restless, and become rougher and rougher, until Bilbo is pushed down onto the gold. Thorin unbuttons Bilbo’s trousers, and pulls them off, taking the undergarments with him.

Bilbo notices that he’s sitting here, bare, in the mountain in his birthday suit, the cold air and the yellow shine of the gold the only things bathing him, while Thorin has only unbuttoned the chainmail trousers and pulled them down to the middle of Thorin’s thigh. He straddles Bilbo again, and starts searching his black fur coat, until he finds the ointment they use to clean and sharpen their knives in his back pocket.

Thorin hastily squirts some on his fingers, and settles Bilbo’s feet on his shoulder, plunging in two fingers. Bilbo gasps with the pain, his legs folding and his body crumpling in with the pain. Thorin does use some moments wiggling and scissoring his fingers, before he starts thrusting, but it still feels too rough, too hard.

When the burn finally becomes pleasant and Bilbo is starting to moan instead of groan, Thorin gets in another finger and this time it just feels good, though the burn becomes sharp for a moment. Bilbo opens his eyes and blinks up, meeting the greedy black fire in Thorin’s eyes.

Finally Thorin gets his fingers out and pushes in without mercy and Bilbo cries out, his legs shaking heavily on Thorin’s shoulders, and Thorin’s hands clasp around his ankles, as if he’s making sure Bilbo isn’t giving out.

Before Bilbo can get used to the thickness of it, Thorin starts to thrust, first slowly, carefully, and then more unrelenting and he takes Bilbo’s legs away from his shoulders and folds them until Bilbo’s knees touch his own shoulders. He claws at Thorin’s thighs, groans and cries and moans spilling out of him, and Thorin growls, lowering down to kiss and bite at Bilbo’s neck.

“You belong here,” Thorin rumbles, as he grinds in deep and Bilbo has to squeeze his eyes together because it feels overwhelming, feels like far, far too much and that's what he needs right now. It's the only way this could feel like enough, like something big enough to fill him, distract him. “In my mountain of gold. You belong here like- “

“ _Ahn_ –“

“- one of these jewels belong here. You shall never leave.”

His pace becomes even quicker, and Bilbo notices that he’s biting down on his teeth too hard, that he needs something slower.

“Thorin,” Bilbo whines. “You’re too rough. You’re too rough.”

Thorin makes a sympathetic whine. “Bear with me, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo whines in compliant confirmation, turning his head and lowering his cheek to the gold, and Thorin whispers encouragements, praises, how beautiful Bilbo looks right this moment, how good he is at receiving what Thorin is giving to him. Bilbo’s fingers disappear into the gold, trying to grab on to something and with a startle Thorin pulls him up on his lap again, Bilbo hands slipping out of the gold.

Thorin bounces him on his lap for what feels like long, long minutes, his cock so bloody hot and thick and fulfilling and Bilbo can feel sweat roll down his neck. His skin is starting to burn and sweat all over; he can feel the curls of his hair plastered sweaty on his forehead. He oddly enough doesn’t feel close to coming, though the arousal and need is there. His cock and ass just feel hot and humming with pleasure, pleasant and vibrating from the stimulation.

Thorin raises Bilbo’s knees up further, and Bilbo yells, the head of Thorin’s cock constantly glancing against something electrifying inside, and Bilbo can’t help becoming louder, pulling at Thorin’s hair, kissing Thorin until the king starts becoming more interested in biting down on Bilbo’s lips.

At some point Thorin becomes tired of bouncing Bilbo up and down and he gets Bilbo down on his knees and his gauntlets closes down around Bilbo’s shoulders, pressing Bilbo’s face into the golden metal, and the chainmail and edge of Thorin’s chest piece are chafing Bilbo’s thighs and back, but it’s splendid, it’s all splendid.

In an almost sudden movement Thorin fists Bilbo’s hair and Bilbo flinches, his hands coming up to Thorin’s hand in his hair and before Bilbo can say something about the hairpulling, Thorin starts fucking him harder, ramming into him until the sound of their flesh meet is echoing in the hall, together with both of their moans.

Thorin only pulled Bilbo’s hair to drag the hobbit into a kiss though, and Bilbo whines, feeling the burn of Thorin’s beard, the sleek hotness of Thorin’s tongue in his mouth and Thorin only takes him harder, until it feels like he’s everywhere, and the arms Bilbo uses to hold up his weight lose strength and it’s only Thorin’s fist in his hair holding Bilbo’s torso up. Soon it moves to cup his head though, keeps it where he wants it, and Bilbo’s balls are throbbing, the little slap Bilbo’s cock does when it meets his stomach for every thrust is a sweet mercy and a horrible tease at the same time, not enough to push Bilbo over the edge, but enough to keep him close.

Thorin’s thrusts become harder until he at last releases Bilbo’s head, letting Bilbo fall chin-first into the gold, his body splayed out and loose, and he feels vulnerable and bad and a little ashamed to be bred like an animal like this, in the middle of a sea of old gold, a former dragon’s resting place, with a dwarf who hasn’t even bothered undressing. A man who looks at Bilbo with desire, but not the mild, loving one he used to possess. Now it’s almost an unambiguous desire, flat and direct, as if Bilbo is just a piece of meat.

Bilbo shutters and Thorin finally grabs hold of the hobbit’s cock, stroking him hurriedly until Bilbo comes, quietly howling and sobbing as his seed spurts out.

And Thorin continues, until he has practically banged Bilbo into a little grave in the gold, the soft metal swimming down and dipping over Bilbo’s neck, shoulders and ears, and Bilbo can only be there, be there and receive what the king is giving him, though he’s so oversensitive that tears are starting to leave his eyes.

Thorin looks determined, his arms strong and long, his hips almost violently taking Bilbo’s arse. Finally Bilbo has the energy to clench down on Thorin’s cock and Thorin’s eyes briefly move away from Bilbo and the king crumples, his hips still pounding into Bilbo, filling him up. After a minute the dwarf gradually starts stilling.

Bilbo’s asshole is throbbing, already sore, and the hobbit whines as the dwarf pulls out.

Thorin catches his breath and then grabs Bilbo’s ass, spreading the cheeks and Bilbo yelps, feeling his wet ass get displayed and his hole stretched.

“Push it out,” Thorin orders.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asks.

“Push it!” Thorin demands and Bilbo groans, pressing until he can feel warm seed roll down his thigh. He shivers.

“Good,” Thorin praises, rubbing circles on Bilbo’s back with his gauntlets. They’re warming after holding onto Bilbo for so long. “Master Baggins.”

Bilbo passes out.

\-----

Bilbo wakes up cold and naked among the gold coins and jewels. A thick wool duvet lies on top of him, his clothes neatly cleaned beside him, his coat with the Arkenstone thankfully left behind by the hearth. He sits up and like the undead, he starts to dress. If there had been any second thoughts before, there aren’t now.

Perhaps he should feel hurt, but he just feels detached and determined. Bilbo didn’t fall in love with the dwarf Thorin has become. The Thorin Bilbo knew, wouldn’t make love to Bilbo for the first time like this. Wouldn’t leave. Wouldn’t find his release while looking at the gold and not at Bilbo.

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot is marked dub-con, first off because Thorin is affected with the Dragon Sickness and therefore isn't 100% sane to consent, and second because Bilbo occasionally doubts or becomes unsure about specific proceedings during the act of sex.  
> First time writing in this fandom ^^' Tell me how it went :)


End file.
